


Another angle of closer

by soundsaboutright



Category: I Told Sunset About You | แปลรักฉันด้วยใจเธอ
Genre: M/M, dramatic prose lol, i told the sunset about you - Freeform, itsay - Freeform, sensual retelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27514648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soundsaboutright/pseuds/soundsaboutright
Summary: The ending scene of episode 3 from Oh's POV.
Relationships: Teh/Oh-aew, Teh/Ohaew
Comments: 19
Kudos: 72





	Another angle of closer

_Can the bend of one’s back invite someone in?_

* * *

Teh’s warm mouth between his shoulder blades undoes everything that has held Oh upright.

Unsteady arms push himself backwards and closer on the deep blue of the carpet floor. Then he loses all strength, falling and floating up weightless, as Teh’s hands around his waist enclose him _inside_.

There’s a roar in his ears. He tries to read Teh’s movements, meet them, welcome them, read from these fingers and knees and chin against him now, instead of from the expressions of his face: Teh’s face that can be so loud.

Teh’s body is being even louder now.

Oh’s fingers curl, yet couldn’t form a fist if he wanted to.

 _He_ moved into this and now he can only hold himself _there_ , lips parted between two breaths, his sole possible focus on being the hard warmth and truth for Teh’s hands to land on.

 _He_ was the one to move into this embrace, yet now he’s _useless_ , overwhelmed body carried and tossed by the torrents of Teh’s touch, pulled along inside the undertow, left and right, deeper and higher.

Only the rigid curve of muscles around his core seem to be somewhat of an anchor, of weight, his stomach so tight against Teh’s hands, coiled in a want that feels like held in laughter. So much that it aches, so taut it might snap.

They follow the natural rhythm of the kiss they haven’t yet shared.

Become the up and down of waves, surging ripples, of something new that Oh only knows deep from his bones.

Teh’s legs are around him, grappling for ground, for traction, for a grip underneath them:

Another angle of closer.

It scares Oh and he wants it, and it scares him how much he wants it. For Teh to find it. Or for them to just stay suspended in this, just this.

Their bodies don’t know what to do, and yet they _do_ ; it makes as much sense as it doesn’t.

And Teh must feel Oh’s skidding heartbeat, pounding back the same vehemence against his hands that they press into Oh’s chest. Oh’s chest, where kneading palms and cotton chafe over most sensitive skin, breath hitching and working itself higher, until fabric pulled into fists seems to have him by the throat.

When Teh holds him the closest, that’s when he stops.

It's a sinking feeling, even before he lets go;

it's a loss of all tethers, the surface still so far away.

Oh’s body turns and moves and _reaches_.

Never gets there in time.

* * *

He's left there, in the night and in the blue;

and for a long moment Oh feels like nothing will fill his lungs again.

**Author's Note:**

> Was that dramatic? Well I blame them.
> 
> Always love to hear what you think, always <3


End file.
